The prowling youth
With fangs and cape
From trick or treat
There's no escape
Unless you make
Your own trick treats
And hand out bags
Of Ex-lax sweets.
- Patrick Winstanley
Those little darlings
With their angelic eyes
Look harmless enough
But beneath their disguise
They’re nothing but thugs
With pure evil intent
These spawn of Satan
Are not heaven sent
These foul blackguards
Going about their sport
They say “Trick or treat”
As they happily extort
They squirt fake blood
On my front door
They egg my new car
I can’t take any more
I sit counting the minutes
Am I the only one?
Who just can’t wait
Till Halloween is done.
- Paul Curtis
Rattle-skattle skeletons
clitter-clack each bone
Shrieksome banshees circle
and werewolves howl and moan.
Sh-sh-shake and shiver spectres
weeshly whisk along the halls
while plumptious orange pumpkins
throw their shadows on the walls.
Double-trouble witchy twins
are cooking up commotion
with rosy poison apples
bib-bobbing in their potion.
Black cats hide in shadows
with topaz eyes ashine
whilst Mummies gently moulder
in the cellar with the wine.
SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRATCH! and RAT-A-TAT!
Zoiks! Zombies — in the street!
Halloweenies here to party —
and cackling:
TRICK OR TREAT!
- Sarah Ziman
On Halloween night in the year 1804
Costumed as a witch, I knocked on a door
Now it's plain to see
A spell was cast on me
I became a frog, hopping on the floor
Years of Hallowed nights had all passed by
I was growing weary but had to try
to find a Prince to kiss
and the spell I could dis
Not one of the snooty royals would comply
I once sought the lips of a Prince Charming
Until fat frogs appeared to be swarming
All reaching for my lips
Such an apolcalypse
It was disgusting and quite alarming
In 1942 I trick-Or-Treated with Prince Chris
Who refused to smooch. Ah, I reminisce
So, I remained a frog
In a swamp, on a log
Because Chris said he was really a 'miss'
Halloween 2022, and what am I to do?
Over a century I've been sad and blue
A Prince to touch my lips
To stroke my curvy hips
Is there a man who'll kiss me among you?
- by Jenna Logan
There was a knock at my door as I paced the hall floor, and I knew, without looking, who I'd meet,
There'd be goblins and witches and zombies with stitches, and they'd joyfully cry out, Trick or Treat!
They'd expect sugar candy and plums soaked in brandy, and cake that I'd pull from my stash,
Peanuts and sweeties and pumpkin-shaped wheaties, plus a ready supply of hard cash.
And like a Biblical flood, they'd be dripping in blood, and they'd tramp it all into my rug,
And it's safe to surmise, that their Halloween guise, will have run up some change for some mug.
So I yell through my 'box, be gone, you're a pox, I have not got sweets for to give,
But they said, listen, you git, we don't give a shit, get some in if you'd like for to live.
But I didn't feel threatened by these juvenile cretins, and I told them, be off, bug the next street,
But they whispered, no dice, now are you going to play nice, and cough-up our Halloween treat?
I said, enough is enough, I was in a real h